


A Firm Hand

by Vivian Moon (vivian_moon)



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Community: marvelkink-v2, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivian_moon/pseuds/Vivian%20Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let's face it, Johnny's a shameless ho.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Firm Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: _"You little bitch." and booze. And spanking, if you please!_

Whatever his reputation, Johnny really doesn't go around stealing other guys' girls just for the hell of it. (The whole deal with Alicia was very much an isolated special case, and anyway, look how that turned out.)

On the other hand, Tony Stark does not so much have girls as hit on the first attractive female person to come within flirting distance, so Johnny doesn't feel too much guilt about sliding in to take his place when Tony's called away from the party by some sort of top secret Avengers business. The young lady in question, one Miss Amber De...something, certainly doesn't seem too upset to trade eligible bachelors.

Possibly using one of Tony's own bedrooms could count as adding insult to injury, but then, the guy's like a billionaire. He has way more bedrooms than he needs.

So it seems like a hell of a coincidence that he should show up in the doorway of this one moments after Miss Amber Delightful has slipped her dress back on and toddled off in search of booze and press exposure.

"You little bitch," Tony says, leaning in the doorway, a lopsided smirk on his face. He's still in the Iron Man suit, the helmet dangling from one gloved hand, but there's a certain drunken flamboyance to his movements. Sue wouldn't approve - she thinks Tony drinks too much - but then, Sue thinks Johnny does _everything_ too much. Sue's a worrier.

Johnny is by his nature a much more laid-back creature, and he has extra reason to be relaxed right now, so he just salutes Tony with his champagne glass from where he's lying back in the bed. "Nice party," he says cheerfully. "Having a good time."

"I think you just had _my_ good time," Tony says archly. At some command Johnny doesn't see, the suit snaps itself apart and folds down into a metal briefcase, leaving Tony in his rumpled tux from earlier.

"Cute," Johnny says. Hanging out with Reed Richards tends to make these things look less impressive.

"Oh, you think _you_ are, don't you?" Tony says, stepping in and closing the door. There's still that smirk curving his goatee, so Johnny's pretty sure he's not about to start a fight, but he's drunk enough to be just that slight bit unpredictable. It sends a prickle of unease down Johnny's spine, and he kind of wishes he'd gotten fully dressed instead of just pulling his boxers back on. (Years of hasty unplanned exits have taught him that much caution, at least.)

So he brazens it out, like always. "Hey, I _know_ I'm cute," he says, with a self-satisfied smile. "Your friend Amber definitely thought so."

"Oh, did she?" Tony casually moves forward, and then, without warning, yanks the covers off of Johnny. Johnny jerks up in surprise, dropping his champagne glass on the floor. "You know, you don't seem very sorry," Tony says, tossing the covers away to fall in front of the door. He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes boring into Johnny's. "It looks like I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."

He grabs Johnny by the arm and pulls him across his lap.

"Hey!" Johnny struggles in bewilderment, but there's a wiry, steely strength in Tony's muscles, and he finds himself clamped in place as Tony brings his hand down in a ringing slap across his ass. The shock forces the air out of him in a _whooph_.

"It seems to me," Tony says, quite conversationally, "that you've been getting away with anything you want for a long time now." Another slap. "Seems like somebody should take..." _slap_ , "a firm hand." 

Johnny's brain, which has been missing in action for much of this, takes this opportunity to point out that, holy crap, Tony Stark is _spanking_ him.

His dick, until now sleeping peacefully in the wake of recent exertions, takes the opportunity to point out that getting vibrated against Tony's lap through soft cotton boxers is not the worst thing that's ever happened to it. Johnny squirms in alarm - the un-smart move of the century, since Tony's clearly not planning on letting go and introducing friction to the equation _does not help_. As another smack lands hard on his ass, the faint swell of interest from his dick is rapidly becoming a full hard-on.

...And it's not alone down there, since it seems that Tony is not finding this little punishment scenario an entirely platonic exercise either. Oh, crap, where the _hell_ is this scene going? And does he really care while he's getting off on it?

Tony pushes his boxers down, and Johnny moans embarrassingly as the next slap lands direct on his bare ass - and lingers for a moment, becoming a stealth caress. If he hadn't taken the edge off earlier, he'd be well on his way to making a sticky mess of Tony's very expensive tux- oh, and hello, _that's_ a new kink that he didn't know he had. Every slap jolts his hard-on, shoving it against Tony's, and they're interspersed with stroking fingers dipping down between his butt-cheeks, and the overall effect is very-

Cold?

Johnny's toes curl as the latest touch extends into an intimately friendly finger, and okay, he has _no_ idea where Tony magicked up the lube from. Maybe there's a secret compartment somewhere in the Iron Man suit. He doesn't really have time to think about it, because the feel of that cool slick finger sliding up inside him is very much an arresting sensation. More so when it's joined there by a buddy, and they both decide to curve and flex a little. He gasps and sighs. Blood rushes in his ears and pulses in his cock.

Tony slides out from beneath him and Johnny moans, not quite sure if it's disappointment or pleasure as those two fingers keep working. He hears the rustle of cloth - Tony's tuxedo pants, button fly, not zipper. His mouth goes dry, and something flutters in his stomach.

"Uh-" he starts to say, but Tony twists his fingers on the way out, and it becomes a drawn-out groan. Tony takes a steadying grip on his hips, and Johnny arches upward like a cat, because, let's face it, he's a shameless ho.

There's a mirror on the wardrobe door beside the bed, and from this angle he can see the two them reflected, him butt-naked and stretched wantonly, Tony standing with manicured hands on his hips still near fully dressed in his tuxedo.

It's a pretty, _pretty_ picture.

He hisses as Tony thrusts his way in, not quite gently enough. He's a little sloppy, a little drunk, a little less careful than he might be fully sober. It's all good. Johnny surrenders to the mindless bliss of being pounded, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself upright so he can keep watching the action in the mirror; see Tony's sleek suavity giving way to a half-feral look of ruthless urgency, see what he looks like being fucked, oh God, being taken, hard and hot and- _Yes_.

He doesn't get to see what he looks like as he comes, because his eyes squeeze shut reflexively as he lets out a hoarse cry, but he doesn't really care because the fireworks are happening and Tony's rhythm is speeding up, growing more frantic, and Johnny's arms can't hold him up and they both collapse onto the bed, and Tony's hips jerk hard and... _Guh_.

Stillness.

After a while, Johnny says, "You're heavy."

Tony makes no move to get off of him. "You're a pain in the butt," he says sleepily.

"No, I'm pretty sure that was you." Oh, he's going to be sore tomorrow. Today. Whenever morning is. Who cares?

"My mistake." Tony still doesn't move. His goatee is bristling against Johnny's neck. It's not that unpleasant, really. Not enough to make an issue of when he's this close to sacking out. It's been a busy night.

It's been a _great_ night. Johnny grins at himself in the mirror.

"You know, I'm still not sorry," he says to Tony. "I think you might have to punish me some more."

"Pencil it into my calendar," Tony says, and promptly starts to snore.


End file.
